


Lambently His

by Original_Cypher



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3x04 coda, 3x04 tag, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/Original_Cypher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3x04 episode tag<br/>Takes up moments after the episode ends. Naturally, Scott takes Isaac in. Things happen. Some are predictable. Some are unexpected. Although, maybe not unforeseen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lambently His

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loz/gifts).



> I haven't seen 3x06 yet. No spoilers, please? :)
> 
> ***
> 
> Gift to [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Loz)[Loz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Loz), because I suck. I hurt people when trying to give compliments.

Scott comes back in the room wearing pajama pants and a threadbare old tee. He finds Isaac standing by the window, looking unresolved. “So... I left my mom a note for when she comes back from her shift. Says you're spending the night. Tomorrow we can explain everything to her, I'm sure she won't mind you staying longer.” He announces while he closes the door.

“Sc-...”

Scott holds up his hand before Isaac can repeat one more time how he hates imposing. “Dude, _stop_. This isn't a big deal.” He picks up one of his pillows and aims it at the blonde’s chest, Isaac catches it easily. “The only reason you haven't officially been ordered to come live here is because my mom doesn't know you don't have anywhere else to go, yet.” Scott says, hating the way Isaac hugs the pillow nervously. Like he still needs a shield.

“I have-...”

“Yeah, right. You're going to go to your childhood home.” The brunette flops down on his bed, pulling his legs under him and setting sad and stern eyes on his friend. “Got any sweet memories there?” He challenges, sarcastic.

Isaac stays silent. Eventually, he looks down at the spare mattress at his feet. The one he helped Scott pull out from under his bed. It's quite literal this time. He made his bed, now he has to lie in it. He knows Scott is watching him when he drops the pillow in its intended spot.

Scott smiles at him, pleased and encouraging. “Come on. Let's get some sleep, yeah? Don't worry about it.”

They both settle under the covers, shuffling around to find a good position. Isaac shifts to his side, facing Scott's bed, and picks at the mattress cover absently. “This smells like Stiles.”

Scott cracks a smile. “He _has_ slept over a lot. It's kind of his. Well, _was_. Now it's yours, too.” He says it calmly. Neutral. “Wait, does it... Like, bother you?”

Isaac's eyes widen. “No, I-... No, I guess.... Stiles' scent is something that's always with you, so it's...” He looks up to meet Scott's eyes, his sudden half grin not matching the crease between his eyebrows. “I'm being kicked out from my alpha's loft, I have a home I can't stand to set a foot into, I'm crashing at your place on your spare mattress and, somehow, I can tell who's used it last... and I was gonna say it feels _normal_.”

Scott stares back at him, head nestled on his folded arm. Eventually, a ghost of a smile grazes his lips. “I know what you mean.”

Isaac looks down, avoiding the gaze, and studies the covers pensively. Scott watches his face. His eyes look like they're closed, but they aren't. The only thing that tells him so is the regular flutter of eyelashes when Isaac blinks. “Won't he mind that I'm... squatting his territory?” They both mentally cringe at the animal subtext.

“Isaac.” Scott almost sounds scolding, disappointed that the teen even wonders about it. Or sad. “He'd take you in, too. You have to know that.”

Blue eyes look up to meet his. “Stiles doesn't like me.”

“He likes you just fine.” Scott huffs and rolls on his back. “He worries about you, you know? All of you guys. He's just a bit jealous because I keep getting distracted by people. Allison. _You_. And you can be there when he can't.” Scott makes a face. He's not stupid, he knows Stiles feels more and more excluded. But as much as he understands the willingness to jump into the fight, to _do something_ , it's in his bones to refuse that Stiles walk into situations that could get him hurt. He already hates that anyone has to, but Allison, Stiles, Lydia... they don't heal. He can't-... He blinks, realizing he's gotten sidetracked in the middle of his point. “He's always been there for me and I've kind of sucked at that, lately.” He knows Stiles forgives, because Stiles loves him and they have a long history of being the only one there for the other. Still, he wants this year to be better for everyone, Stiles included. Because if ‘pack’ is a thing, then him and Scott were the original duo.

“This probably won't help.” Isaac points out, staring at Scott's profile.

No. Probably not, he thinks. “We'll see.”

@@@

Scott isn't sure what wakes him up. The erratic, jack hammering heartbeat, or the quiet plaintive whines that Isaac is letting out. He sits up in his bed, startled out of his slumber, and stares at the other boy in the room. Isaac is twitching and whimpering in the throes of a nightmare, Scott hesitates. What should he do? He can't leave him like this. But should he speak soothingly and see if it calms Isaac down or wakes him up? Should he step over and shake him awake? Should he call out his name and snap him out of it? He suddenly wishes he remembered what his mom used to do to rid him of his nightmares when he was a kid.

Isaac makes the decision for him when he folds in on himself and cries out as if in actual pain. Scott is out of his bed and looming over him before he knows what he's doing. He's unable to keep himself from helping. Always. He has to try.

Turning his bedside lamp has no effect on Isaac, although it makes Scott squint blearily for a moment. “Isaac.” He whispers, watching the teen curled on his side, shying away from an imaginary threat. Or a blow. Except, for the sleeping boy, 'imaginary' doesn't mean 'not real'. The moisture starting to gather on the teen's lashes is anything but real. “Isaac.”

The instant Scott's hand touches his shoulder, Isaac jerks around. He immediately tries to fight Scott off, making noises stuck between aggression and pleading.

“Isaac! Isaac, it's me!” Scott gets slapped across the face a few times as Isaac flails, struggling to free himself from him and the bedding. The blond mumbles a series of 'no' on different tones. “Isaac, _please_.” He hasn't wolfed out yet, not completely, but Scott can feel the strength building in his thrashing movements. Isaac is calling upon his second nature to defend himself, his eyes are probably yellow behind his eyelids.

This can't go on. He can't stand to see, hear and smell Isaac panic like this. He doesn't want to hurt him. He wants to fight him even less.

He lunges upward, manages to take a hold of Isaac's wrists and uses his weight to pin them down at their sides when he falls back. “ _Isaac!_ ” He shouts, and Isaac's eyes fly open, swimming with terror. His entire body is screaming of fight-or-flight response. Except he can't run, he's held down. That only gives one option. “Isaac, it's _me_! You're safe!” Scott rushes out before Isaac can start feeling claustrophobic. “It was a nightmare, you're _safe_.”

He can hear Isaac's heart stutter in recognition, tripping awake, identifying Scott as friendly. Some of the fright leaves the blonde's face, but he still stares back, wide eyed and heart racing, cowering in the face of an unfamiliar situation. It lasts a few excruciating seconds during which Scott tries to will the hammering in Isaac's chest to slow down, to soften. He wants the sickening taste of fear to disappear. When he gets enough of his bearings back to move, Isaac doesn't try to tug his hands free like Scott expects him too. Instead, smelling like a new wave of trepidation taking over, he jerks upward, twisting in Scott's grip and crushes their lips together.

It's painful, more of a collision than a kiss. Even though Isaac is rigid with tension, the main thing that takes Scott aback is how little he is surprised or perturbed. Then again, they have been studying orbits, gravitational fields and collision courses. Maybe, unconsciously, he's seen this coming for a while. There is no 'WTF you doing?!', or 'Holy, shit! _Guy lips!!_ ', or 'Argh! Friend-zone! Weird!'. There's just... Isaac.

Isaac, smelling of fear, confusion, desperation and nerves. His heartbeat is refusing to slow down, to find some kind of steady rhythm again.

When the blonde falls back against the bed, he looks exactly as he did upon jerking awake. He’s expecting pain, consciously or not. It's a look Scott never wants to see again. He wants to erase the trauma forever, make it scar tissue instead of a bleeding, throbbing wound. He's half aware it is what he wants, when he chases Isaac down. All he knows is that it's what they both need.

He brings their lips together, meaningful and insistent. He isn't shy about his instinctual urge to want to comfort Isaac, to want him to be safe, to shield him. From everything. Isaac whimpers as he kisses back, sending goose bumps running down Scott’s arms. He loosens his grip on a wrist, choosing instead to rake his nails backwards up Isaac's palm and lacing their fingers together. Isaac moans as their grip relocates in the vicinity of his head.

Scott lets go of his other arm. The palerboy immediately reaches around, palming at his spine and urging him downward. Scott lets his weight sink on top of Isaac, fully trapping the covers between them. He falls on his elbow so he can bury his hand in soft blond curls, opening his mouth to chase Isaac’s tongue.

So close to Scott’s chest, the blue eyed teen’s heartbeat is still all over the place, but it feels a lot different. A lot better. They giggle helplessly against each other's mouths when they both sigh in unison. Scott hums and gasps when Isaac takes the opportunity to nip at his bottom lip.

They become playful. Isaac rolls on his side so he can tip Scott over to face him. Scott follows the lead, laughing. It suddenly feels so easy. So right. The last traces of fear in the air are dissipating, giving way to other, much more positive things. Like lust. That one's a given, but it's not the most potent. It's not the one that thrums inside Scott like an echo. Isaac radiates with _joy_.

Laughing blue eyes meet his with a chuckle when Scott finally pulls back to gaze at him. Isaac's lips are wet and pink, as if being kissed raw isn't something that super healing needs to take care of. The curl at the corner of those lips, half tentative and shy, half satisfied and happy, makes Scott's heart trip. He goes back in, slowly this time. Tenderly. Because Isaac deserves soft touches and loving caresses.

Isaac makes a broken noise when Scott's thumb grazes his cheekbone, hand grasping at Scott's waist and squeezing hard. There's a pang of _something_ between them. They rest their foreheads together, panting.

Scott combs the hair at Isaac's temple with his nails, content to stay there. Being so close to Isaac – to someone, simply, maybe – quiets something in him, he feels like he can breathe deeper, only now realizing he felt constricted before. Eventually, he pulls back, lifts himself up to survey the sight laid out for him, pale face open and relaxed, eyes closed as if in sleep. Isaac makes a contented noise when Scott presses a kiss to his cheek, smiling privately.

“Are you okay?” Scott asks, serious, after he's settled back down.

“Hm...” Isaac opens his eyes with a half smile, who falls when he realizes Scott isn't talking about the latest development. He looks down, stares at the wrinkles in Scott's shirt until the other teen reaches out to tug his chin back up. “Yeah,” he says, knee-jerk lie Scott catches but doesn’t mention. “I will be.” That's truthful. He believes it. “It'd been a while.” Isaac admits. Scott has an idea of exactly when this ‘while’ started. He feels a flare of helpless anger that it ended. “But I'm... I'm used to it.”

Used to it? And that's supposed to be okay? “That's not a good answer.” It's revolting.

“I'll be fine.” Isaac punctuates his assurance with a gentle squeeze and shake of Scott's hip. “I was... I'll be okay.” He gives Scott a smile. It stretches and evolves into a smirk as he digs his fingers in the flesh around Scott's hipbone. “I'm actually quite fine right about now.”

Won over, Scott is unable to do anything but grin goofily back.

Isaac is a picture of innocence and vulnerability when he asks. “Stay?” Scott smiles and nudges their noses together in response, powerless to resist. Isaac chuckles quietly again, a hitched exhalethat feels precious.

Eventually, they move so they can arrange themselves under the covers. Stretching his body alongside another man's is a strange sensation Scott takes his time to catalog. Isaac lies on his back and Scott settles his hand tentatively on his stomach. Isaac hums contentedly and feathers his fingers across the back of brunette’s hand approvingly. Scott lifts his and meets the gesture. For a while, they rest together, pensive, fingertips brushing and chasing each other.

A few moments pass quietly, then the blonde shifts, one arm reaching far over his head. Scott gets distracted by the feel of Isaac stretching, pressing against him, before he wonders what his guest is doing. He hears a _snip_ , and darkness envelops them again. Scott snorts. Isaac just unplugged his bedside lamp.

“What?” He challenges. “Did _you_ wanna get back up?”

Scott claims his lips as an answer. He can think he will never get enough of hearing and feeling Isaac’s soft laughter against him.

Shuffling to find a comfortable position to sleep in, Scott finds himself tempted to press himself to Isaac’s back as the latter turns on his side again. “This okay?” he checks, laying a light hand on the blonde’s hipbone.

Silently, Isaac reaches around and tugs Scott’s arm around his waist confidently. The brunette smiles as their fingers tangle effortlessly, like a practiced movement. Still, he can tell Isaac is still thoughtful, awake. The other teen can probably sense the attention for he speaks after another beat of silence. “I feel so stupid.”

Scott squeezes his hand. "Why?"

He hears Isaac swallow. "I'm afraid to go to sleep." It takes him a while to admit, but when he does, it's not a shameful confession. It's a statement of facts. To Scott, it feels like a testament to the trust Isaac has in him. He trusts Scott not to make fun of him or find it silly.

And Scott understands. He knew what Isaac was going to say before he did. He knows Stiles has trouble resting as well, these days. Stiles is too prideful to admit to it, so Scott never mentions it. He finds comfort in the fact that Isaac seems willing to allow him to be there for him. He frees his hand to slide his fingers in Isaac’s hair, tracing his scalp, spreading around one side of Isaac's skull. "When you're awake, you can push the thoughts away. But when you're asleep, there's nothing to keep them from coming to you."

Isaac makes an aborted move to turn around and face him. He looks surprised that Scott knew what he meant and how to word it. “Yeah.”

Scott presses his lips to the back of Isaac's neck. He joins their hands again. "You're safe.” He assures him. “Isaac, I'll keep you safe. You're safe with me.” It feels silly to repeat the same word like this, but Isaac responds to it every time, a fraction of the tension in his posture ebbing away. “Do you believe me?" When he’s met with silence, Scott nuzzles behind Isaac’s ear, prompting. He gets a low noise in response. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." The answer is soft spoken, but immediate, assured.

Scott presses closer and rests his face against the back of Isaac's neck. He smiles, eyes closed and peaceful. He isn't aware, as he listens to Isaac's heart slow down into sleep, that his irises have just taken a red sheen.

**Author's Note:**

>  **lam·bent**  
>  adj.  
> 1\. Flickering lightly over or on a surface: _lambent moonlight._  
>  2\. Effortlessly light or brilliant: _lambent wit._  
>  3\. Having a gentle glow; luminous.
> 
> @@@
> 
> [Spoilers for 3x07, sorta] I wrote this before 3x07 and the whole True Alpha explanation. The idea I had in mind when I wrote this stems from the explanation of his tattoo Derek gave in S2. That roles are fluids and alphas can become betas and vice versa, etc... From the beginning of S3, you can see Isaac trust Scott more and more and depend on him. That's what's happening here. It's the instant Isaac becomes Scott's beta and makes him, consequently, an alpha. _His_ alpha.


End file.
